Cheating, to me, has never been limited to bodies or moments behind closed doors. It lives in quieter places—subtle, invisible spaces where emotions wander before actions ever do. For me, cheating begins the moment something meant to be ours is offered to someone else.
It’s emotional before it is physical.
It’s attachment before it is touch.
If you look at someone the way you look at me—the softness, the interest, the unspoken comfort—that is cheating to me. Because that look carries history, intention, and possibility. It carries us. And when that is shared elsewhere, something sacred is diluted.
If you are more friendly with someone else than you are with me, that is cheating to me. I believe, deeply and unapologetically, in being her first true best friend. Before the world, before others, before everything else—us comes first. Love isn’t just romance; it’s priority. It’s choosing each other even in the smallest interactions. Everything else should fall secondary, not because others don’t matter, but because this matters more.
For me, it’s either completely her—or there is no her at all.
People often ask, “Does it really affect you if she holds someone else’s hand, just as friends?”
And my honest answer is: yes, it does.
Because hands aren’t just hands. They carry warmth, reassurance, comfort. There are friendly gestures, and then there are gestures that blur into emotional safety. When comfort, closeness, or familiarity is shared in ways that spark feeling—even subtly—it crosses a line for me. That line isn’t drawn by insecurity; it’s drawn by how deeply I commit.
I don’t want half-love.
I don’t want borrowed attention.
I don’t want a relationship where emotional doors are left open “just in case.”
I need dedication.
I need commitment.
I need love that chooses me even when I’m not in the room.
I need a life built on the certainty that we are each other’s safest place.
And yes—before anyone wonders—every one of these expectations applies to me too. One hundred percent. No exceptions. No double standards. If I ask for loyalty, I offer it fully. If I ask for emotional exclusivity, I live by it myself. Because love, to me, is not about control—it’s about mutual surrender.
This is not everyone’s definition of cheating.
But it is mine.
And I’ve learned something important: love only works when both hearts agree on where the line is drawn.
Hmmm, when you hold a hand full of sand with open palms, it stays with you, while you try to clench it in your fist, it flows away. Love is all about keeping an open palm, it’s all you want and it will always be more than what you need.
ReplyDeleteThat’s a beautiful way to put it—and I agree with the essence of what you’re saying. Open palms matter in love. But for me, an open palm doesn’t mean no boundaries; it means trust within chosen limits. I don’t want to clench love out of fear—I want to hold it with care, clarity, and mutual understanding. Freedom feels safest when both hearts agree on where the ground stands.
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